Never Alone
by xxLuAshxx
Summary: Following the death of her parents, Amelia Heaton has grown up to be a protector of the innocent. Although kind and beautiful, she feels that she is not worthy of love. But what happens when she catches the eye of King Edmund the Just? Edmund/OC
1. Chapter 1

**A/N; Hey everyone! It's been a while since I wrote anything, but now I'm back with an Edmund/OC FanFic for you all. Pictures of my characters will be posted on my profile and I do not own the Chronicles of Narnia or any of its characters!**

**Enjoy!**

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><p><strong><span>Chapter 1<span>**

I tipped back my head as the rim of the glass touched my lips and felt the spicy liquid wash down my throat. I swallowed and then gasped, setting the glass back down on the bar…next to the other five glasses. Now, looking at me in this state, people may come to the conclusion that I'm an alcoholic. But this isn't true of course.

I'm just a sucker for spiced apple cider. And it isn't even alcoholic, so take that!

"Gaston, another glass of your fine spiced apple cider if you will." I called above the rowdy men in the bar, laughing and sloshing their pints of beer everywhere.

Ugh, men…disgusting.

"Coming right up, love!" the bartender and pub owner, Gaston, called back. I sighed and leaned against the bar, observing the creatures that were here tonight. Archenland soldiers…the usual.

"Here you are, Mia; on the house!" Gaston boomed, setting the glass with its sinfully delicious drink in front of me.

"You've made me pay for the last six glasses; why is this one so special?" I asked, examining the contents for any trace of drugs or poison; you know how men can be.

"No reason." Gaston shrugged, "Just don't want to see you waste your money. Besides, business is booming tonight, so I think I can cope without a couple of Lion coins tonight."

"You're an angel." I said, standing up and seizing the glass greedily, "If I could I would kiss you, but you're married so I'd rather not."

"Have you ever actually been kissed?" Gaston asked curiously as I took a gulp from the glass. After I swallowed, I smacked my lips together, thinking about whether I had actually been kissed.

"I'm not sure," I said after a moment, "When I was younger I fell into a boy once and our lips came together, but other than that…no."

"Nineteen years old and you've never been kissed." Gaston grinned, "I don't believe that for a second."

I shrugged my shoulders, "Believe what you want to believe. But right now I have a date with a roaring fire and a book." I chugged down the rest of the glass, wincing as the spice tickled my taste buds, and put it back down. "Night Gaston!" I called over my shoulder as I turned away from the bar.

"Goodnight Mia!" I heard him shout back. I headed over to the staircase that led to the second floor of the pub where my room was located. No, I wasn't a family member or special case to Gaston, but he owed me for a favour I did for him a while ago.

I shook my head in disappointment as I saw some badgers drinking pints of ale; surely that can't be legal, can it? I mean, intoxicating animals borders on cruelty in my books. But I was suddenly brought out of my thoughts as a hand slapped my backside. I abruptly turned around, wide-eyed and as mad as hell.

"You're one fine looking woman." A soldier slurred in my direction, wobbling where he stood as he looked me up and down with his eyes. I put on a sweet smile and walked up to him.

"Touch me again, and I'll break your hand so you can't insult anymore women." I giggled girlishly in his ear. As I moved to pull away from him, he grabbed my wrist in a tight grip.

"Feisty one, eh? I like that in a woman." He leaned towards me when I gripped his wrist and twisted until I heard a snap. The man reeled back and cried out in agony, clutching his now broken wrist to his chest. Eyes snapped towards us and watched as the soldier made a spectacle of himself.

"Oh, man up!" I told him, rolling my eyes. I turned around to walk back up the stairs when I heard an angry cry, no doubt the soldier, behind me. Without looking, I ducked as low as I could and the man that was charging at my back tripped over me and landed on another Archenland soldier, spilling his beer all over his uniform. The soldier turned red faced and proceeded to punch the drunken man in the face.

And then all hell broke loose.

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><p>I trudged up the stairs, rubbing the sore spot of my head where a glass had been smashed over it in the brawl; that's the third time this month.<p>

The brawl was pretty nasty with punches and glasses thrown in all directions, but Gaston and his band of merry pub workers came in and saved the day, kicking everyone but me out of the pub.

Oh, how I hate going to drink in a pub full of men.

I unlocked my door and entered my room, smiling at how homely it was. Sure, there was only a fire with a rocking chair, a shelf of books with a writing desk, a chest of drawers, a tall mirror, another door leading to my washroom and a bed, but it was enough for me.

I quickly walked around my room and lit the candles with a splint, letting some light into the room. Once I had done, I blew out the splint and chucked it into the fire which was now roaring nicely, before scouring my room. Looking at the mirror reminded me of what that drunken soldier said, _"You're one fine looking woman."_ Curiously, I walked over to the mirror and stared at my reflection.

My dark brown hair was pulled into a loose side plait and my blue eyes stared back at me, framed by thick eyelashes. My skin was rather pale which contrasted with my pink lips. I guess I had curves in all the right places and I was an average height. Now, I'm not the big-headed type, but I knew I was physically fit; I had to be for my job.

After examining my body, I looked at the clothing. All I was wearing was a light brown cotton dress which ended mid-thigh and came to my elbows, but my legs were covered in cream leggings and brown knee high boots. Around my waist was a thin brown belt where I would normally place my sword and dagger.

Boy, that soldier must have been **really** drunk.

I shrugged my shoulders and turned back to face the rest of my room. It was starting to get late so I decided to do something relaxing, yet worth my time. I swiftly walked over to my bed and kneeled down. I felt underneath it until my fingers brushed the leather case, causing a smile to grace my features. Using both hands, I pulled the large case out from under the bed and undid the locks. I opened the case and grinned when I saw my sword and dagger glinting at me. I plucked them from the case and carefully placed them on my bed before kicking the case back under the bed. Taking back my sword and dagger I wondered over to the fireplace and picked up a stone from the mantel and sat down on the rocking chair. I put the dagger by my feet before gently running the stone over the sword, sharpening it.

People wonder what a girl like me does with a sword as everyone assumes that I'm like every other girl, only caring about the latest fashion or hairstyle. But I need a sword for my job.

I was hired to protect people.

Now it might not sound that great, but I lived for the fights of life, particularly with a sword. I was my own person and nobody could tell me how to do it. All my clients cared about was the cost and keeping their people alive.

Most of my clients were wealthy men wanting me to keep their wives and daughters safe as they ventured to foreign countries, however, when there were innocent citizens at risk, I was always there to help.

Although the pub brawls were exceptions as I probably started most of them.

Suddenly, three sharp raps sounded on my door. I stopped sharpening my sword for a moment before standing up and slowly walking over to my door. Keeping my sword at the ready, I opened the door cautiously. A hooded figure stood at the other side, hands clasped in front of themselves.

"Amelia Heaton?" They questioned, although I could tell it was an elderly man due to the gruffness in his voice.

"Yes? Who's asking?" I asked, narrowing my eyes slightly. You see, some people didn't really respect me, so I had to keep my guard up.

"May I come in?" He asked, looking around as if something was going to jump out at him at any moment.

"On what grounds?"

"I have a job for you." As soon as he uttered those words, I stood aside and allowed him to step inside my humble abode. He entered the room with his back straight and I knew that he was some kind of noble man from the regional air that surrounded him.

"What a lovely…place." He said, looking around my room.

"Hey, listen pal; I haven't closed the door yet." I warned.

"No, no I apologise." He stammered, holding his hands up in surrender. I nodded, satisfied, and closed the door, balancing my sword on the ground next to me. I turned towards the man and leaned against the door, partly so nobody could get in and so I could hear if anyone was coming. I crossed my arms over my chest and stared at him.

"So, what's this job?" I questioned. The man sighed and pulled off his hood. "Lord Conway." I said in surprise, standing up a bit straighter. Lord Conway was an elderly yet much respected man, but he lived on the other side of Archenland.

"I have a proposition for you." I nodded my head for him to continue. "As I'm sure you're aware, tomorrow is the birthday of Queen Lucy the Valiant. It is her eighteenth and to celebrate, his majesty High King Peter has invited royals and nobles from across the lands to celebrate with them at a ball held at Cair Paravel. My wife and I will be attending, but so will my daughter Charlotte." I could see him starting to sweat slightly, "You see, I and Lord Randal of Calormen have had a rather violent disagreement, and I am very aware that he knows of my daughter. At tomorrow night's ball, my family, particularly Charlotte, will be exposed as she has her mind set on finding a husband, and I fear that Lord Randal will try to harm her."

I stood still for a moment, analysing the situation. Two lords wanted each other's guts and I had to protect the daughter at tomorrow night's ball – oh.

"I really wish I could help you," I started and I could see Lord Conway's face crumble in hopelessness, "But I believe tomorrow's ball is by invitation only." To my utter surprise, he perked back up.

"Oh I can deal with that!" He said, hope gleaming in his eyes, "I know a Lord who has a spare invitation as he cannot attend and the invitations are not named." I considered it for a moment.

"But I do not have a ball gown." Unless he hadn't noticed, I wasn't exactly rolling in wealth.

"I can take care of that too! I will go into town and get a ball gown made for you, and I can pay someone to do your hair and makeup." I had to hold in a laugh as he looked like a child on Christmas morning.

"Very well, Lord Conway." I sighed, "I will protect your daughter at tomorrow night's ball." I was suddenly swept into a hug.

"Thank you!" he boomed with happiness. I waited until he let me go when I cleared my throat.

"But as you know, Lord Conway, this will come at a price." I said seriously.

"Oh, of course. I have brought money." He said, producing a bag of what I assumed to be coins, "How much will it be?"

"Well, seeing as you're willing to pay for the dress, hair and makeup and getting me into the building...I would say around one hundred Lions." I concluded.

"Deal." He said immediately and started counting the money. I sighed and looked out of the window.

"Oh, Lord Conway, how will I know who Charlotte is?" I asked, turning back to him as he counted the last of the coins.

"Here, I have a portrait of her." He put his hand inside his pocket for a moment before pulling out a small case. He opened it and shuffled through it for a moment before pulling out a card and handing it to me.

I had to admit, Charlotte was very beautiful with pale skin, short blonde hair and brown eyes; she looked to be about the same age as me. I studied the portrait for a moment, committing it to memory before handing it back to Lord Conway.

"No problem." I smiled. "If you come back here at around ten o'clock tomorrow morning, we will go into town to get the necessities sorted." I said. He nodded his head and got up to leave.

"But if I may ask, Lord Conway," I called, stopping him, "Who are you hoping your daughter will marry?"

He smiled at me, "Why none other than High King Peter of course, or maybe King Edmund. I doubt she has much competition." He mused.

"Why would she have competition?"

"Word has spread that High King Peter is beginning to look for a bride to rule by his side as High Queen. So naturally, the monarchs have invited every eligible royal female to the ball tomorrow." Lord Conway explained.

"I thought the ball was for Queen Lucy's birthday?" I asked.

"Oh, it is. But it won't stop the young ladies from fawning over their royal majesties." Lord Conway smiled and exited the room, pulling up his hood.

My breath caught in my throat as I choked back a laugh. That was another topic that every woman was obsessed with; the eligible kings of Narnia. I had heard and seen females of all ages swooning over the kings, claiming that they were 'the most gorgeous men in all of Narnia'. Alright, I had never actually seen the kings or queens, but it all seemed over the top to me. All I knew were their ages; High King Peter was twenty three, High Queen Susan was twenty two, King Edmund was twenty and Queen Lucy was eighteen tomorrow.

I gathered Lord Conway's coins and hid them under my bed along with my sword and dagger. I still had a fair amount of beer on me after the brawl so I bathed for a little while, ridding the stench off my body and allowing my hair to spill out of its plait so it hung past my shoulders. Once I was fully cleansed and relaxed, I dried off and changed into my thin cotton nightdress and doused out all the candles apart from the one on the chest of drawers next to my bed.

I climbed into my bed and wrapped the sheets around my body. The fire was dwindling now so I allowed it to burn out while looking through the small window at the stars. They truly were beautiful and when I was younger, my father used to point out certain constellations and tell me stories about them.

Thinking about my father brought tears to my eyes. I reached under my pillow and pulled out the miniature portrait of my parents; mother with her chestnut brown hair and sea green eyes, father with his brunette hair and pale blue eyes.

"I miss you so much." I whispered, kissing my fingertips and touching the portrait with them. I sniffed as I put it back under my pillow and blew out the last candle. As I snuggled down into my pillow, the realization hit me hard that I would be in the presence of probably the most powerful beings in Narnia. I would probably end up sitting in a dark corner, cackling at the women vying for the Kings' attention while keeping an eye on Ms Charlotte Conway.

Hey, I said I was a protector, but I never said that I was a sane one.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

The carriage rocked from side to side and I huffed in frustration as another wisp of hair fell into my eyes. I quickly tucked it behind my ear and hoped that we would arrive at Cair Paravel soon.

Lord Conway, who surprisingly listened to my instructions, had turned up on my door bright and early at ten o'clock, ready to go get me sorted for the ball. We had travelled to the market by horseback where we decided to get my dress sorted first. The dryad who owned the shop fitted me into a grey off-the-shoulder dress, which was tight around the waist and began to fan out near the bottom. I was very happy with the dress as I couldn't stand those large 'cupcake' dresses where you take up at least three seats when you sit down. The dryad complemented me on my slim figure and looks, saying that I was bound to catch a few gentlemen's eyes, to which I rolled my eyes and told her to shut up; no way would I want to be attracting any attention at the ball.

After the dress was sorted, we went to see two female beavers that poked and prodded at me until my hair and makeup was finished. My usual boring brown hair was twisted into an elegant bun with a few curls left framing my face. My makeup consisted of eyeliner, mascara, silvery eye shadow and soft pink lipstick with a pinch of light pink blusher. Putting the combination together, I looked rather beautiful; a proper _lady_.

The carriage suddenly jerked to a stop, pulling me out of my thoughts and seat.

"Men drivers." I tutted, trying to readjust my dress that had become slightly askew. I sat up straight and waited for the driver to open my door like a proper lady. As if on cue, the carriage door opened and a grubby hand was held out.

"We're here ma'am." The driver informed me as I took his offered hand. I twisted my features to look like I was disgusted with him.

"Yes, I can see that." I snapped, mentally apologising to the man. I stepped out into the darkening night and looked up towards the castle. What I saw made me gasp in awe.

The castle was a truly magnificent place made from pale yellow brick. There were centaurs and fauns dressed in the royal colours, obviously the royal guard, patrolling the area. In the front entrance, where all the guests were heading, light shone and I could distinctly hear an orchestra playing, filling in time.

So, not too shabby then.

I followed the other guests down the main pathway, keeping my back straight and my head up. Torches were lit either side of the path, which was a stupid idea as the guests must have been roasting hot by the time they got to the entrance.

Well, _I _was roasting.

"Invitation, please." The centaur at the door ordered, looking down at me. I clenched my jaw and handed my invitation to him confidently, noticing the two swords attached to his waist. He scanned through the invitation for a moment before glancing at me and nodding, allowing me access to the building. I took my invitation back off him and my ballet flats padded against the marble floor as I headed towards a large double door that was being guarded my two faun soldiers. They opened the door for me but I froze in place when I glanced inside.

The hall was bustling with people in a mixture of formal tunics and flowing dresses, laughing and sipping at wine. Large columns held up the grand hall which must have been at least fifty feet in height. There was a large buffet table at the far side of the room dressed with wine and nibbles; the sight made my stomach grumble. Along the walls were several chairs in case guests became weary after dancing.

_Yeah, try having to run about eight miles as you are being pelted with arrows and daggers while trying to protect someone. Now __**that's **__tiring. Or even more tiring; a pub fight._

But what really caught my attention were the four thrones at the opposite end of the room on the dais. They were grand and magnificent looking, perfectly fit for royalty. I unconsciously took a few steps forward until I knocked into someone.

"I'm sorry." I apologised to the small redheaded woman who glared at me, her hair piled on top of her head. She opened her mouth to say something, but I was already half-way across the room, heading towards the buffet table. I quickly observed the table and then frowned. There was no delicious apple cider; only crumby wine.

I was about to pick up a glass of wine when a fanfare boomed across the room, silencing the orchestra and making me jump out of my skin. Are they seriously trying to kill their guests? First they roast them and if that fails, give them a heart-attack? I sighed quietly and leaned against one of the marble columns, folding my arms across my chest and hiding in the shadows.

Everyone silenced themselves as a faun, wearing a royal navy blue scarf with gold tassels, stepped into the hall. I saw the young women in the room start adjusting their dresses, trying to make themselves look more appealing; I snickered quietly.

"My Lords and Ladies," the faun addressed, "Presenting their Royal Highnesses, the Kings and Queens of Narnia!" The double doors of the hall opened once again and a man and a woman walked in, side by side.

The man was tall with blonde hair falling into his blue eyes with slightly tanned skin. He had on a dark navy tunic with the crest of Narnia woven in with gold material, pale yellow trousers and black knee high boots. Even with the layers of clothing he had on, I could tell that he was very well built and strong. A golden cape was draped across his shoulders with a large sheathed sword hanging around his hip and a large golden crown, which was imbedded with rubies, sat on top of his head. I concluded that this must have been High King Peter.

The woman next to him was slim with dark brunette curls tumbling past her shoulders. She had bright blue eyes and pale skin; a very beautiful woman. She wore a pale, powder blue dress with long sleeves which complemented her figure and wore a navy cape with a gold crown, almost like woven leaves, perched on her head; High Queen Susan.

Both nodded and smiled at several lords and ladies as they made their way to their thrones. Suddenly, another couple walked into the room, following the steps of the others.

The girl was slightly smaller than High Queen Susan, and her hair was a few shades lighter. Although pale in skin, she had fair brown eyes which gave off a look of innocence. She was dressed in a white dress with a red cape following her. The crown she wore was identical to the previous queen's, although it was silver; Queen Lucy.

As I glanced at the figure accompanying Queen Lucy, I felt myself do a double-take. The man I was looking at had black hair and deep brown eyes; darker than Queen Lucy's. They contrasted with his pale skin, in which his nose was dusted with a few freckles. He wore a light blue tunic with cream trousers and black knee high boots and like his brother, a sword hung from his hip. He wore a pale grey cape and a silver crown glinted off his head. Scanning him again and judging by how tall he was (which was quite tall) he had lean, strong muscles, and I found him oddly…fascinating. As he shared a smile with his sister, his name came to the front of my mind; King Edmund.

By now, each of the four monarchs had reached their thrones. With the exception of High King Peter, they sat down on their respected thrones, watching their brother with pride and fondness in their eyes.

"Friends, it is an honour that you were all able to join us for the celebration of our sister, Queen Lucy's, eighteenth birthday. I know many of you have travelled from afar so you could dine and dance with us tonight, and for this we are deeply grateful. And now, without further ado, it is my pleasure to welcome you all to Cair Paravel. Let the celebration begin!" The High King proclaimed smoothly.

Everyone in the hall applauded loudly before the High king took his seat and the talking and bustling started up again. I made an uncomfortable noise in the back of my throat as the orchestra began to play. Suddenly, a flash of short, golden hair caught my eye. My eyes focused on the colour and I observed the young woman in a pale green dress, a cheeky smile on her face as she danced with a Telmarine soldier.

"Bingo." I whispered; Charlotte Conway. She truly was very beautiful, and I was sure that she would have no problems attracting a few more suitors tonight; maybe even the Kings.

I caught a glimpse of Queen Lucy being led onto the dance floor by a Calormen Lord's son, but there was something not quite right about him. His eyes seemed to shift from side to side as if he was searching for something, and the smile on his face was fake. I squinted my eyes slightly to get a closer look at him.

"Magnificent party, isn't it?" A familiar voice commented behind me.

"Fascinating." I replied. I looked back over to Charlotte Conway to find her still dancing with the same man.

"I trust you got into the castle alright?" Lord Conway asked, standing by my side.

"Well if I didn't, I wouldn't be here would I?" I asked sarcastically.

"Good point." He chuckled. I pursed my lips for a moment before slowly turning around, facing the buffet table which was a few meters away. It was a mesmerising sight considering I hadn't eaten for about three hours. I took a few steps towards it before Lord Conway's voice drifted through my ears.

"Where are you going?" He asked, slight hysteria in his voice. I looked over my shoulder at his incredulous expression before jabbing my thumb over at the buffet table.

"I'm hungry." I explained simply. I started to move again.

"B-But…you can't…Charlotte-" He spluttered.

"Listen pal, I won't let anything happen to Charlotte, alright? But when I've gotta eat, I've gotta eat." I turned around again, only to have his voice stop me…_again_. My stomach grumbled in protest.

"No, I won't allow it." He said defiantly. I raised my eyebrow and glanced over at Charlotte behind Lord Conway's shoulder.

"Look!" I pointed, widening my eyes, "High King Peter is dancing with Charlotte!" Lord Conway immediately turned around, only to find his daughter conversing with other ladies of the court. But before he could turn back to me, I scrambled away, embracing the sight of the food table which was getting closer and closer.

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><p>I picked up another chicken tortilla wrap off the buffet and leaned against the table, watching as the celebrations continued.<p>

I had been at the party for just over an hour, and had consumed a total of three chicken wraps, two cheese sandwiches and three glasses of water. The party was now officially in full swing as everyone was starting to get a little bit tipsy. But not me, because I'm a good girl.

I had kept an eye on Charlotte all night, and to be honest I couldn't see why I was here. It seemed clear to me that Charlotte was safe as the castle was heavily guarded and all weapons had been taken off everyone who entered the building, except for the Kings, as the guards were probably sucking up to them so that they got a promotion or something. However, I had promised Lord Conway that I would protect his daughter for the night, and I always kept my promises.

The monarchs seemed to be having a great time, particularly Queen Lucy as it was _her _party. She seemed to have danced with every available man that there was, including her eldest brother.

"Did you see the way he danced with me, Maria?" I heard a voice giggle. I inconspicuously glanced to my left and saw two young women with blonde curly hair, pink dresses and way too much makeup whispering to each other with glasses of wine in their hands.

"I know Marie. The next thing you know, the High King will be begging you to be his!" I covered my mouth with my hand as I snorted a little laugh. Marie and Maria…how original. Didn't they understand that if the High King was looking for a wife, he had to dance with every possible female? Although I hadn't seen him dance with Charlotte yet…

"I'll tell you what; if I get Peter, _you _can have Edmund." The girls continued to giggle. At the mention of the King's name, I glanced up at the dais. All four monarchs were seated on their thrones, laughing like a close family.

"Yeah, if he will let anyone _near _him." Maria muttered. I bit my lip to stop myself from laughing again; every time a woman approached the Just King, he would turn to someone else to make himself look busy.

Not that I had been watching him or anything…

My thoughts began to delve into the workings of the Just King. From the glances I had stolen at him, there seemed to be a majestic air surrounding him which contrasted with the mischievous twinkle in his eye when he saw his brother dancing with the ladies. I hadn't seen him dance with any women apart from his little sister as he was either sitting on his throne or conversing with other lords. The more I observed him, I began to find him more…handsome.

Suddenly, a blood-curdling scream was heard from the middle of the dance floor. The music abruptly cut out and other guests gasped and screamed, trying to scamper towards the edges of the hall. My eyes snapped to the source of the trouble and widened.

Charlotte Conway was being held firmly against a man, her back against his chest and a knife pressed against her throat.

"Nobody move, or I slit the girl's throat!" He shouted to the already silent crowd. I saw the two Kings unsheathe their swords as they leapt from their thrones, but hesitated when the man pressed the blade more firmly against Charlotte's neck.

"I said, don't move!" The man yelled again, staring at the Kings with cold eyes. I then recognised the man who was the one dancing with Queen Lucy at the beginning of the evening.

What a party-pooper.

I sighed and subtly grabbed the bowl of salad from the table and a fork. Since I couldn't bring my weapons, I would have to talk to the man…but weapons would have made my life a lot easier.

I shovelled a forkful of salad into my mouth and chewed, watching the scene unfold.

"Charlotte!" I heard someone cry from the crowd, and I knew it was Lord Conway. A moment later, his figure pushed through the crowd and I rolled my eyes; stupid man.

"Ah, Lord Conway," The man addressed. I never noticed but he had a large scar on the right side of his face, running from his eye to his jaw. I decided to dub him 'Scarface'.

"Please, let my daughter go." Lord Conway pleaded.

"Not likely." Scarface replied, smirking evilly. Of course he wasn't going to let her go. "I've come to get revenge for my master." He tightened his grasp on Charlotte.

"You don't want to be doing that." I warned loudly. I felt everyone's eyes snap to me, but I kept my vision on Scarface.

"And who might you be?" Scarface sneered.

"Well, if you be a little more polite, I might decide to tell you." I shot back. Scarface clenched his jaw, obviously not liking being stood up to.

"Don't test my patience, girl." He snarled.

"Nope, I just wanted to test your manners, but unfortunately for you, you didn't pass." I sighed, spearing more salad with my fork.

"Who are you?" He asked bitterly, but I could detect curiosity in his voice. I glanced over at Lord Conway quickly.

"Amelia Heaton; my friends call me Mia." I ate some more salad.

"Then tell me, _Amelia_, why I shouldn't kill you as well as this one?" He spat, jerking Charlotte roughly.

"Because you'd miss me." I smiled, confusing him greatly. "I'm only joking. But really, you'll be interested in what I have to say."

"So speak." He demanded.

"You have two options here. You can either let the girl go and let the guards take you to the dungeons where people will listen to your reasons for your actions. Or, you can _attempt _to harm her, whereby you will be deeply humiliated when I beat you up." I shrugged my shoulders, "It's your call."

Scarface thought for a moment before smirking at me again, "I choose option two."

He went to slit Charlotte's throat, but before he could, I threw my fork which stabbed into his hand. With a cry of agony, he dropped the knife and let Charlotte go. The guards, who had been standing by at High King Peter's orders, immediately pounced on the vulnerable man and dragged him out of the room.

I sniffed and looked into the now empty bowl before realising that everyone's eyes were on me.

"What?" I asked. Charlotte stepped out of her father's protective embrace and slowly came towards me.

"You…saved…my life." She choked. I looked around, still confused.

"Yes…and?" I questioned.

"And for that you shall be rewarded." A voice said. My eyes snapped up to the dais where the monarchs stood. I looked at High King Peter, who had just addressed me.

"Your majesty?" I asked.

"For your heroic deed, it is only fair that you receive some kind of reward." He repeated, amusement in his blue eyes. "What is it you would like?"

I sighed for a moment and glanced at Charlotte briefly, when an idea popped into my head.

"I would like to spend some time here in the castle, if it's not too much to ask." I said, meeting his gaze evenly.

"Very well." He nodded.

"But…I would also like Charlotte Conway to stay as well." I continued, glancing at Lord Conway and winking at him.

"An odd request," High Queen Susan spoke, her gentle voice washing calmness over me, "But I don't see why it can't be managed."

"Thank you." I smiled. I began to turn away from them when I caught a pair of dark eyes. They seemed to hold me captive as they bore into mine. Butterflies filled my stomach and for the first time in my life, I could feel the warmth of blush coming into my cheeks. I snapped out of it after a moment, only to realise that I had been staring at King Edmund.

Uncomfortable and slightly embarrassed, I cleared my throat and headed back to the buffet table.

"And with all due respect, your majesty," I called over my shoulder to High King Peter, jabbing my thumb at Charlotte, "Give that girl the next dance!"

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><p><strong>AN; A little bit slow, I know. But now is the part when we start to see a **_**lot **_**more Edmund! :P**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N; ****I'm **_**so **_**sorry for not updating sooner! Life has been crazy around here at the moment! Also, I am going to continue this story while working on one of my new projects, **_**'You Are Perfect To Me'**_** so again, apologies if updates are a little slow. But I promise you that this story WILL be finished!**

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><p><strong><span>Chapter 3<span>**

I felt the smugness practically roll off me in waves as I watched High King Peter dance with Charlotte. I mean, not only did the High King listen to me, but they looked like they were getting along rather nicely.

Once again, I was at the buffet table, nibbling absentmindedly at a chocolate chip muffin and let me tell you, if I was staying here for a while, I was _so _going to steal the recipe for them.

All night, people had come over to congratulate me on my 'victory'. On the outside I was smiling and thanking them, but on the inside, I was concocting plans on how to swipe some apple cider from somewhere near-by; I was practically addicted to the stuff and was slowly starting to suffer from cold turkey.

I groaned as another snooty-looking couple began to approach me, no doubt to ask me about my 'heroic actions'. I really didn't want to talk to anybody else tonight – I wasn't even supposed to be _seen_! So, to avoid conversation, I did the only thing I could think of:

I stuffed the whole muffin into my mouth making me unable to speak to anyone.

Sucks to be me, huh?

I caught the couple hesitating for a few seconds as they exchanged words to which they then drifted over to the other end of the hall and I sighed in relief. I began chewing the muffin slowly, debating whether or not to just go home, forget about staying here, and escape the conversations of the higher class.

"Ahem." Someone cleared their throat behind me. I rolled my eyes and decided to ignore them, squinting my eyes at the large doors at the end of the hall which were practically begging me to walk through them within the next five minutes.

"Excuse me, my lady." A deep, soothing voice said from behind me. I swallowed the rest of my muffin and sighed in frustration.

"Can't you tell when a girl doesn't want to talk to you?" I inquired without turning around, my gaze still locked on the doors. Surely Lord Conway wouldn't mind if I sneaked away. I mean, Charlotte was in good hands with the High King-

"You would deny me this chance to talk to you?" The voice asked again, amusement clear in his tone.

"Listen buddy, I don't know you and you don't know me, so let's just leave it at that, ok?" I asked sweetly, scouring the crowd for Lord Conway. "The last thing I need is some desperate, puppy-eyed rich boy who only cares about his money and the women he beds on a daily basis trying to converse with me." The man laughed at my analogy.

"Well, I just thought seeing as you're going to be spending some time at my home, we might as well get acquainted with each other now…" He trailed off.

I was beginning to get really annoyed with this guy, but then something he said occurred to me;

'_Seeing as you're going to be spending some time at my home…'_

But only the royal monarchs live here…

My heart began to beat faster in my chest and my eyes quickly snapped towards the dais. I spotted both Queens conversing with each other, giggling with wine glasses in their hands. High King Peter was talking with a few of the Lords, Charlotte on his arm.

But no King Edmund.

I took in a deep breath and slowly turned around.

Black hair, deep brown eyes, tall, pale skin, a few freckles, a cheeky grin and to top it off, a silver crown.

"…I'm sorry, do I know you?" I asked, raising an eyebrow. His grin became more pronounced and his eyes twinkled with the laughter he was trying to hold in.

"You _should _know who I am." He said, clasping his hands in front of him. I pretended to think hard for a moment before I snapped my fingers.

"You're that guy who I bought my new boots off last week." I exclaimed, my eyes wide.

"Um…no." He couldn't hold it in anymore and burst into laughter. I was momentarily caught off guard by the sound of his laugh; it made me feel comfortable and warm…

What the hell am I saying?

I shook myself mentally as his laughter died down and I curtseyed, "Your majesty." I addressed. I stood up properly after a few seconds, only to have him bow to me in return.

"Amelia Heaton." He acknowledged; a frown formed on my face.

"How do you know my name?" I asked as he stood up to his proper height.

"Well, you did kind of announce it in front of the whole hall." He said, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Oh." I said meekly. We stood in silence for a few minutes, waiting for the other to speak. Well, if he wasn't going to take the plunge, then I would.

"So, what is it you wanted to talk to me about?" I wondered warily. His eyes flashed to mine as he smiled as if remembering something.

"Actually, I was going to ask you to dance, but seeing as you insulted me, I'm not so sure anymore." He teased. I felt the blood pool into my cheeks and broke eye contact with him.

"Yeah…sorry about that." I apologised, looking up at him through my lashes. He seemed to go into some sort of daze for a moment before he waved away my apology.

"Think nothing of it." He dismissed, "But about this dance…" I smiled slightly at the adorable expression on his face as his head cocked slightly to the side as if he were trying to figure out a difficult problem.

"What about it?" The smile remained on my face as my eyes narrowed. King Edmund suddenly stood up a bit taller, making me come up to his chin, and cleared his throat dramatically.

"Miss Amelia Heaton, would you do me the honour of allowing me this dance?" he asked formally, holding his hand out towards me. I looked into his eyes, then at his hand, and then back into his eyes.

"Nah." I decided and turned away, only catching a glimpse at the shocked expression on his face.

"Why not?" He asked curiously, walking around to stand in front of me again.

"Dancing and I don't exactly get along." I explained, shuddering slightly as I remembered the last dance I went to; the boy I danced with ended up with four broken toes and two cracked ribs.

Trust me; you do _not _want to know what happened.

"Oh, I see." The King murmured, rubbing his chin with his hand, "Then I guess we're going to have to struggle through it." He shrugged and before I could protest, he grabbed my hand and practically dragged me over to where the other couples were dancing.

"Oi!" I protested, trying to snatch my hand back, but his grip was like iron.

"Struggling only makes it worse!" He called over his shoulder, winking at me. I narrowed my eyes and bit my tongue so I wouldn't say anything that would land me in the dungeons. King Edmund positioned us smack-bang in the middle of the dance floor where I was open for all of the ladies of the court to glare at me and the men to ogle me.

I found my respect for the King greatly lessened.

His free arm wrapped around my waist and I reluctantly put my hand on his shoulder, wondering how I was going to get out of this alive. I could handle a dozen bloodthirsty soldiers coming at me from all sides, swords in hands, but dancing was a big 'no no' in my book and there aren't a lot of things in my book.

What a sad, lonely life I must lead.

The orchestra began to play their piece; a smooth waltz that I didn't know the steps to.

"Your majesty, I don't know this dance." I whispered, noting other couples beginning to swirl to the rhythm.

"Ok, first of all just call me 'Edmund'; the 'King' bit is nice, but it gets tiring after a while," He grinned.

_Oh trust me, I can think of several other things to call you; the majority not the appropriate language for an elegant ball…_

"And secondly, I don't know the dance either, so we're in the same boat." He shrugged and began swaying us to the music.

_And is said boat one I can push you out of?_

"Fine." I muttered; there was no use arguing with the King of all people. I would either end up in the dungeons, or Lord Conway would have my head for ruining his daughter's chances.

I refused to look at Edmund for the rest of the dance, opting instead to inwardly mock the ladies who were thinking of as many different ways to kill me. I could tell by the narrowed eyes, grinding teeth and curled up fists that I wasn't going to be very popular with them. I couldn't help but let out a little laugh.

"I think your fan clubs are angry with me." I teased, nodding my head towards a group of blondes who were glaring daggers at me. Edmund glanced in their direction and the girls immediately sent flirty smiles and winks to him.

"Ugh." He shuddered, turning away from them, "Women."

"Not a fan of the ladies?" I guessed, holding back a smile.

"Oh, by all means am I a fan," He corrected, "But the majority of them creep me out." He spun me around and then folded me back into his arms.

"And who are included in this 'majority'?" I questioned. I had no idea why I was asking him these questions, but I was intrigued to know more about the mystery that was King Edmund the Just.

"Oh, you know, the really blonde girly girls that only care about fashion and how to seduce men with money successfully. Most of them seem to have an obsession with the colour pink as well, although I have no clue as to why." He rolled his eyes. "I'd like a girl who is natural, who isn't afraid to be herself, who is kind and caring, yet funny and strong when she needs to be." I noticed that the dance began to come to an end and our swaying began to slow down.

"What's wrong with blondes?" I asked, changing the topic slightly while subtly glancing at a certain High King and a certain Miss Conway.

"Blondes aren't my type at all. Besides," He leaned down in my ear, "I prefer brunettes."

My eyes widened slightly as I froze, my heart going into overdrive. Was this King…_flirting _with me? I stared into his eyes as the dancing stopped and couples started applauding. His eyes seemed to draw me in and I could feel my cheeks getting warm.

"Well," I cleared my throat, "Good luck with finding such a woman." I bowed my head, feeling his stare, turned and began walking away, although I swore I heard him say, _"I think I already have." _Before being engulfed by the group of blonde girly girls. I bit my lip, ignoring the obvious eyes that were looking me over, deeming me worthy enough to dance with royalty.

But I knew that even without their judgement, I wasn't worth it.

* * *

><p>I stared not-so-subtly at the faun's hooves as he led me down the corridor. I had left the party early, feeling a little sick and asked to be shown to the room that I would be staying in. I had said goodnight to Lord Conway and the monarchs, who promised to give me a tour of the castle at some point tomorrow.<p>

A throat was cleared and I snapped my eyes up to the faun's face that had an impatient look on his face.

"Sorry." I apologised sheepishly. He rolled his eyes and opened a large wooden door that I had only noticed that we had stopped in front of.

"This will be your room while you remain a guest at the castle." The faun instructed. I wondered slowly into the room, taking in the roaring fire, large bookshelf with desk and chair, tall window and a double bed with a draping canopy.

"Wow." I whispered, walking over to the bed and stroking the smooth, silk sheets.

"You're nightclothes and other garments are in the wardrobe." The faun gestured to the large oak wardrobe standing proudly by a changing screen and mirror. "Your bathroom is located on the other side of the door." He nodded over to another door by the desk.

"Ok, thank you." I nodded my head at him.

"Will you be requiring anything else?" He asked civilly. I shook my head while smiling gently at him. "Very well; I hope you have a nice rest, ma'am." He bowed his head before walking out of the room and closing the door behind him. I bit my lip and tiptoed over to the door. I pressed my ear against the wood and waited until I could no longer hear the faun's hooves clicking against the stone floor before I launched myself onto the large bed. I spread myself over it, feeling my body slowly sinking into the mattress.

"Ah, this is the life." I mumbled, turning over and burying myself into the plush pillows; I abruptly sat up. "But first thing's first; I _have _to get out of this dress!"


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

I sighed in content as I snuggled down further into the soft mattress, dragging the thick quilt further up my shoulders. My eyes remained closed as I refused to leave the comfort of the warm nest I was tucked in. I was determined to stay here for as long as I could, regardless of what anyone said. Besides, I was not a morning person.

"My lady?" I heard a gentle voice whisper. I groaned and buried myself deeper into the feathery pillows, feigning sleep.

"My lady, it is time to get up." I frowned with my eyes still closed, willing the voice to go away. It was silent for a minute and I started to drift off again; there was a frustrated sigh.

"My lady," the voice addressed with a hint of annoyance. I felt a hand start shaking my shoulder but I blindly batted it away.

"My lady, their majesties are ready to breakfast." The voice declared, obviously trying to coax me up.

"Well then they can start without me." I grumbled, rolling onto my stomach. I thought whoever it was had given up until a bright light suddenly flooded behind my eyelids; they had opened the curtains.

"Why would you do that?!" I groaned in bewilderment, lifting up the pillow and stuffing my head under it.

"My lady, it is rude to keep their majesties waiting." A blast of cold hit me suddenly as the quilt was yanked from my body. I yelped, my eyes popping open and goose bumps started forming on my skin. I quickly glanced around the room and found a dryad standing above me, quilt in hand with an eyebrow raised.

"That was cruel." I huffed, pointing at the quilt.

"It was necessary, my lady." She shrugged, wrapping the quilt up. I sat up on the bed and brought my knees up to my chest.

"You could have just asked." I mumbled, rubbing my eyes.

"I did, my lady, several times." She pointed out, "Would you have gotten out of bed if I'd have kept asking?"

"Don't be so silly; of course I wouldn't have." I reached my arms above my head and stretched, feeling parts of my spine click.

"Well then, my lady, I rest my case." She smiled victorious. I muttered unintelligibly as she walked, well more like glided with a grace I was so envious of I was tempted to throw a pillow at her just to knock her off balance, around the bed. She stopped suddenly and looked at the floor, frowning.

"Forgive me my lady, but what in the name of Aslan did you do to this?" she quizzed, picking up what used to be a beautiful grey dress. Memories of me rolling around on the bed trying to rip the infernal thing off me came flooding back all of a sudden.

"It didn't want to play ball." I responded, glaring at the material; I will never forgive it for causing me such distress.

"So you felt the need to torture it?" she asked; I simply continued my imaginary staring competition with it. "You could have always requested help. There's at least two guards posted in every corridor at night; they would have summoned me, my lady."

"But that would have been like admitting defeat!" I gaped. The dryad simply shook her head and carried the dress over to the chair in the corner. I swung my legs off the mattress and winced as my feet touched the cold floor. I was not a fan of anything cold…unless it's ice cream in which case I'd happily die surrounded by it. My stomach grumbled at the thought of the creamy desert.

"Right my lady, firstly you need to wash." The dryad stated, coming over towards me, "I've already filled the tub for you." I stood up, shaking out my body when she suddenly started undoing my nightgown.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa!" I yelled, jumping back onto the bed, "What are you doing?!"

"I was undressing you so you could bathe. It's part of my job to help dress and undress you, my lady." She started coming towards me again and I grabbed the first weapon that my hands touched; a pillow.

Dang it.

"Stay back, don't make me use this." I warned, jiggling the pillow in my hands. She raised an eyebrow at me.

"What're you going to do, my lady? Beat me to death with comfort?" she planted her hands on her hips. I blanked for a moment.

"It's a working progress."

She sighed, "Look, if you don't want me to undress you then fine. But please, my lady, just get into the tub. You only have about an hour before breakfast is served and if you're late it'll be me who gets the blame."

I narrowed my eyes for a moment, observing her. She _seemed _to be sincere, but it could have all been some cunning plan. I kept the pillow armed in front of me as protection and slowly side-stepped my way towards what I assumed was the washroom, keeping eye contact with the dryad. She continued to keep an eyebrow raised.

"What's your name?" I asked, pausing before I entered the washroom.

"Evangeline, my lady." She curtseyed.

"Haha, distraction!" I yelled and ran into the washroom, slamming the door behind me. After a moment I heard Evangeline's musical laugh from the other side of the wooden door and allowed myself a small smile too.

* * *

><p>"There now my lady, you look perfect." Evangeline smiled, stepping away from me. I had washed myself and dried my hair, to which then Evangeline insisted that she get me dressed and ready to look 'presentable' in front of their majesties. She had tried to dress me in a variety of frocks (all of which I was horrified at) and opted for a loose fitting navy blue gown with long sleeves and it trailed all the way down to the floor. I had also requested that my makeup (which I didn't really want to wear but 'had' to) was light and I pulled my hair back into a low ponytail.<p>

"Thank you." I smiled. Evangeline smiled back and curtseyed, "please, don't do that." I asked, grabbing her shoulders and pulling her back up.

"Why not?" she asked in confusion. I was about to tell her I wasn't of noble blood until I remembered that I was supposed to be.

"It's too…formal." I chose my words carefully. Well, I couldn't exactly say 'Oh, there's no need to bow. I'm no one special really, I'm just a girl who lives above a pub and protects the innocent, but don't tell anyone I told you that!'

"How do you mean?" she asked, blinking. I sighed.

"It doesn't matter. Now, where is breakfast being held?" I inquired.

"In the hall, my lady." Evangeline smiled. I smiled back as we walked towards the door and she opened it for me.

"Thank you." I said, before straightening my posture and walking confidently down the stone corridor. I walked past several guards, both fauns and centaurs, each of them bowing their heads as I passed, but as soon as I rounded the corner to an empty corridor I stopped, realizing that I had absolutely no clue as to where the hall was.

I should have asked for a map…I didn't exactly plan ahead here.

I tiptoed down the corridors at a slow pace, putting my ear against every wooden door in hopes of hearing the familiar voices of the monarchs, but after ten minutes I still had not found the right room.

"Hmm, if I were a hall that was having breakfast served in me, where would I be?" I mused quietly, tapping my chin. _Yeah Mia, like that's __**really**__ going to help._

"Well if I were a hall I think I'd be down the end of this corridor." I jumped as a feminine voice giggled behind me. My eyes widened as I saw the silver flower crown.

"Your majesty!" I gasped in shock, just managing to curtsey. Queen Lucy laughed.

"Please, don't curtsey, you're a guest. And just call me Lucy; I'm only queen when I'm on duty." She winked. I allowed myself a small smile, still embarrassed that I had been caught out by one of the queens of Narnia.

_I guess musing out loud to myself really __**did **__help…who knew?_

"So," she began, linking her arm through mine, "It seems you are in need of a tour. I would like to show you around after breakfast if that's ok with you?"

What? As if the queen would need permission from _me_. My lips twitched at the ridiculous notion.

"Of course it is, your…Lucy." I recovered to which she flashed me a grateful smile.

"Good. Although I have to admit that even I still get lost in this place." She said, looking around the walls as we continued towards the hall. I was starting to get nervous, which was actually a rarity for me. But don't judge! I'm sure you would be nervous too if you were about to have breakfast with the royal family of your country!

We walked towards the large double doors which suddenly opened from the other side, giving me the fright of my life.

"Her majesty Queen Lucy, and Lady Heaton!" Someone announced as we entered.

_Oh, 'Lady Heaton'…how sophisticated…_

The hall was, for lack of a better word…beautiful. I doubted that it was much different from the hall that we were in last night, although it looked slightly smaller. There was a large, long oak table in the centre of the room and I nearly froze up in shock as I saw the other three monarchs, along with whom I assumed to be noble men and women who had stayed after the party, all sat at it. I also recognised the short blonde hair which belonged to Charlotte Conway. However as soon as we were announced everyone stood and looked over at us and I could feel my palms beginning to sweat. I wanted nothing more than for the ground to just swallow me up.

"Lady Heaton!" High King Peter boomed, his deep voice echoing off the walls; boy did they have good acoustics here, "Come, we have a seat for you here." He smiled, gesturing to an empty chair next to Charlotte.

"Thank you, your majesty." I smiled and curtseyed. Lucy rolled her eyes from beside me and practically pushed me towards the table.

"Please, no titles here." High King Peter waved his hand, "No need to waste your breath on them, my lady." I nodded my head as I took a seat next to Charlotte and Lucy took one higher up the table next to High Queen – I mean Susan. The other lords and ladies sat down too, starting up conversations with each other. I just sat there awkwardly.

"So Lady Heaton-" Charlotte began.

"Mia," I corrected, "I like to be called Mia." She smiled.

"Mia, where are you from?"

"Well, I originally grew up in Archenland, but I've been travelling around a lot these last few years." I responded, careful not to slip up in my story. A bell chimed and several fauns came bustling in carrying silver trays full of food. I inhaled deeply; bacon, eggs, sausages, toast, pancakes…I had to lift my hand to my mouth to check I wasn't drooling. A silver plate and cutlery was placed in front of me and I thanked the faun with a grateful smile. The food was placed at the centre of the table and everyone began helping themselves after grace was said. I noticed that the other ladies of the court only helped themselves to small portions of food and I grimaced; do these women purposefully starve themselves?

"So Lady Heaton, do tell us; where in Narnia did you gain the courage to stand up to that ruffian last night?" One of the ladies addressed me. All muttering of conversation seemed to cease and all eyes turned to me. _And so the gossip hounds begin their sniffing._ I swallowed the bacon I was chewing on as I considered how to answer her question.

"Well madam, my father taught me. He always wanted me to be able to defend myself, and not leave me helpless if anything should ever happen to me."

"So you are trained in combat?" Another lady asked, curiosity taking over.

"Yes madam, I am." I replied, taking a sip of water from my goblet.

"And you think that proper for a woman of your stature?" Another lady asked, although she sounded as though she was appalled. I paused, turning to look at the woman. She had long, tied up red hair with a hooked nose and an _extremely _stiff back.

"Well yes madam, I do." I answered back with conviction. I glanced around the table and saw that plain curiosity was written over everyone's faces. I looked higher up the table and my eyes caught a swift glance of Edmund leaning forwards slightly, eager to hear my answer. I bit the inside of my cheek, trying to rid the images of dancing with him last night and the words that were spoken between us. I mentally shook myself and delved back in to the conversation at hand.

"I believe we women are just as capable as men when it comes to physical combat. Sure we might lack the physical strength, but we can be quicker and more agile, I can assure you. Why should we have to rely on men for our protection? We are intelligent; our minds are strong and independent, so why can't our bodies be the same?" I asked to no one in particular. I was actually pretty impressed with myself; I didn't know I could speak such poetry…

"A little _too_ independent sometimes." A lord grumbled, causing a small wave of masculine laughter through the table.

"I completely agree with Lady Heaton." I heard Susan claim. I looked at her, surprise written on my features.

"Me too." Lucy inputted. I sent her a grateful smile and she mirrored it.

"Oh please," a male voice scoffed, "With all due respect your majesties, it is a known fact that women are only good for one physical thing." The young lord smirked and the atmosphere suddenly became awkward.

"Lord Burley-" Peter warned.

"Sir, are you married?" I asked Lord Burley, forgetting that I had just interrupted the High King.

"No…" he narrowed his eyes.

"Oh. Well, there's no surprises there then." I mumbled loudly. To my surprise this made the other nobles, including the monarchs, laugh. However, the reality of what I had just said, and who I said it to, registered in my head and I bit my lip and looked down at the table in embarrassment.

_Stupid Mia; proper ladies do not act like that!_

"Lady Heaton, you never fail to surprise me," Peter chortled, "I think the next few days will be quite interesting with you around." I didn't really know how to respond to that so I simply smiled awkwardly.

After a few moments, conversations started up again between couples and friends. I simply stared at my goblet of water, willing it somehow to turn into spicy apple cider; when having the tour with Lucy I was determined to find the location of the kitchen to swipe some, or die trying.

While I was in my own little world, I got the feeling once again that someone was watching me – most likely Lord Burley glaring daggers at me. I kept watching my goblet, willing the feeling to go away, but it would not. Biting my tongue, I slowly dragged my eyes around the table, seeking whoever was looking at me. It was no one who was near me, and Lord Burley was conversing with his father. Frowning, I continued looking higher up the table, growing more and more frustrated at the niggling feeling.

All of a sudden my eyes landed on a pair of dark brown shining eyes that I knew all too well. My breath hitched in my throat as the Just King sat, leaning back in his chair, his head cocked to the side and his eyes focused on me. He wasn't looking directly into my eyes, but was scanning my face with interest, as if I were some sort of creature that was fascinating to him. The butterflies that I had felt last night when looking at him erupted in my stomach once again and I clenched my teeth together, wishing that they would go away.

Edmund's eyes then snapped to mine. They only connected with mine for a brief moment before they widened and he abruptly turned back to his breakfast. I was confused for a second before I observed a hint of pink colouring his cheeks and the tips of his ears.

_Had I caught him doing something he shouldn't have been?_

I took the time to study him once again. His eyelashes fluttered as he blinked and his nose was straight along with high cheek bones – not an ounce of fat in sight - with full pink lips. His jaw was strong and defined and his black hair was a little ruffled from sleep. For some unknown reason I found myself wondering what it would feel like to run my fingers through the strands. I felt my cheeks and neck heating up at the thought. His neck was pale and strong and I could clearly see the Adam's apple bobbing in his throat as he swallowed his food. I dared myself to look down further and saw that his tunic was unbuttoned at the top, showing off a glimpse of his collar bones which created a V shape and down to the top of his broad, strong, pale chest.

Before I could investigate any further, Lucy cleared her throat.

"Lady Heaton?" She called.

"Please, call me Mia." I smiled, banishing all thoughts of the Just King from my mind so I could participate in a coherent conversation.

"Mia, have you finished?" She asked excitedly.

"I believe so, yes." She clapped her hands and stood up, practically skipping down the table towards me.

"Well then, I promised you a tour and a tour you shall get." She grinned, grabbing my hand, "Charlotte, you are more than welcome to join." She added.

"I would like that very much, thank you." Charlotte grinned. We both stood up from our chairs, curtseying to everyone as they all bowed their heads back.

"Try not to wear them out, Lu." Peter teased, to which Lucy waved him off, despite the quiet laughter within the room. She took both of our hands and led us out of the hall, but this time, I didn't notice the pair of brown eyes following me out of the doors.


End file.
